Mount Apikuni And I see fire, hollowing souls,

little here to notice, in some ways. a lot to notice, in others. feels like there’s a pack every few miles in these mountains, borders thrown here and there. borya has little interest in intruding. would be a lot of blood, and not worth the trouble. could have a reasonable conversation, maybe, if wolves were much for being reasonable in groups.

her steps take her up and over the ridge. she’s climbed from the valley far below, a deep v of green, forests and lakes together; promise in that, at least. no scents there to mark a pack, nothing but the faded trails of wolves moving back and forth. not a problem. on their own, they’re usually smart enough not to bother her.

the side of the mountain’s a sharp and sweeping thing. top’s not quite the same – charred here and there, buried by rubble, shoots sprouting hopefully from the ash. tiny pockets of trees and grass. not a kind sort of place, but she’s not here to hunt. not here to claim this as hers, either.

especially not with wolves.

her nostrils flare halfway through. smell’s as good an indication as any that she’s not alone – among all the scattered rubble, takes a few more steps before she can track it to the source: a single wolf, sprawled on the grass. eyes closed. not worth any worry, so far.

a low rumble builds in the bottom of her chest, rolls out into a heavy huff of air. won’t be going out of her way for it, that’s for certain. her paws take her right past; her head rolls to the side, a single spring-green eye fixed unerringly on the other woman’s face. warning. could be a challenge, if she thought it.

if she was smart, she wouldn’t try.